Roughly translated, "I blog, therefore I am". Or am I? Exploring the recent newsworthy notion that we are not all that 'special', and how this relates to the unique narcissism of the information age.
If everyone gets a trophy, trophies become meaningless. In our unspoken but not so subtle Darwinian competition with one another–which springs, I think, from our fear of our own insignificance, a subset of our dread of mortality — we have of late, we Americans, to our detriment, come to love accolades more than genuine achievement.
We have come to see them as the point — and we’re happy to compromise standards, or ignore reality, if we suspect that’s the quickest way, or only way, to have something to put on the mantelpiece, something to pose with, crow about, something with which to leverage ourselves into a better spot on the social totem pole. No longer is it how you play the game, no longer is it even whether you win or lose, or learn or grow, or enjoy yourself doing it… Now it’s “So what does this get me?”
|Credit: Emmanuel Chaunu|
I am fairly active on Facebook. I use it to stay connected with friends and family, and share things I find or have sent to me by others.
If you had an early TRS-80 (computer) from Radio Shack, and stored all your journal entries on its cassette drive you’d be hard pressed to access any of it now just 25 years later.
A line from the Mister Rogers remix keeps popping up in my head -
Imagine every person you meet is different
from every other person in the world